


Trail of Fire

by mywordsflyup



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Sexual Content, and everything in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been six month since Inquisitor Lavellan has defeated Corypheus. While the Inquisition is busy restoring order in Thedas after the war, a new danger already looms on the horizon. A new foe that threatens to scorch the earth and rip the veil. And once more, the Inquisition is the only thing standing between Thedas and the inevitable abyss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The man silently slunk from the shadows of the trees, hood drawn low over his face. He felt the damp heavy earth underneath his feet as he wandered into the clearing. The smell of rain and mud and resin in the air as thick mist rose from the ground like wisps.

The man found the trail he was looking for. A line of black scorched earth cutting through the green grass like a wound cut with a sharp knife. He looked up, gently drizzling rain instantly coating his cheeks and forehead. The trail led to a hut in the middle of the clearing. On first glance it almost looked peaceful but his eyes wandered to the gaping front door and the blackened wooden boards of the wall next to it. It was no longer smoldering, the rain had taken care of that, but as he came closer the familiar smell of burned wood reached his nostrils. And something else, something sharper that made the hair on his neck stand up and his stomach turn.

There was a figure lying on the trail before him. A woman. Wide-open lifeless eyes staring up into the overcast sky, face forever twisted into a mask of pure terror and pain. The rest of her body was a broken heap of charred flesh. In places the fire had burned through her to the bone. The man did not avert his eyes from her, taking in her form, her death, her suffering. He felt her pain as keenly as if it was his own. But it did not matter now. He walked around her, careful not to let his long cloak brush against her body.

A few steps behind her another figure, smaller this time. A child, he presumed. It was charred beyond recognition. Only a chubby, milky-white leg remained untouched. A small foot still wearing a flimsy slipper. They had tried to run. You could not outrun this fire.

Unfortunate, he thought as his eyes wandered over the body. But what had been done was done. The child's death was nothing but a pebble thrown into a lake – its ripples already fading as they reached the shore.

He had to steel his heart against the sorrow. Many more would burn before this was over. He was just a wanderer now. A quiet observer, biding his time.

He reached the tree line, the clearing with its hut and bodies and death already far behind him. He did not look back. The shadows welcomed him like an old friend as he pulled his hood further down and kept on walking. Following the trail of destruction that lay before him.  


	2. His Children Would Create

Elaria Lavellan took a moment to breathe, both hands on the withered wood of the stable door. Her horse was already happily munching on a ball of hay. The most exhausting part of the journey was over for him. She felt like she had still miles to go before sundown.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she turned around. Cullen stood in the door frame, his silhouette encircled with light from the late afternoon sun. His usually so carefully maintained hair sprung from his head like a golden halo. A very curly halo. A day on the road had utterly destroyed the illusion of manageable hair. He also had a habit of running his fingers through his hair whenever he was nervous. And this trip had made him more than nervous.

“Are you alright?” he asked and stepped into the dusk of the stable. Without the sharp contrast of the sunlight, Elaria was able to see his face more clearly. He looked just about as anxious as she felt. She needed to pull herself together. The whole trip had been her idea, after all.

“I'm fine” she said and gathered her bag and coat from the dusty floor. “Just needed a moment to catch my breath.” She tried to smile at him but it turned out more strained than reassuring. He touched her arm lightly. He was still wearing leather gloves but she imagined being able to feel the heat of his skin through all the layers of fabric. With a heavy sigh she allowed herself to be drawn into his embrace. She always felt better in his arms – safer somehow. This time was no exception. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the folds of his coat. It smelled like dust and sweat and sunshine. It smelled like Cullen.

“It's going to be fine” he murmured into her hair. He was tall enough to comfortably rest his chin on the top of her head but bowed down enough to take in the smell of her hair. She had always been tall for an elf but in his arms she almost felt like a dwarf. It was comforting in a way. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, his other buried in her hair. Always her hair.

When they finally let go of each other, she could see that his face had relaxed a bit. Her own smile came more easily as well. She got on the tip of her toes and kissed him. Just lightly, their lips barely touching.

“We should get going” she said and shouldered her bag. “Have you paid the stablemaster?” Cullen nodded and followed her outside. The sun almost blinded her after the shadowy dusk of the stables. She shielded her eyes against it and looked toward the city walls. She had never been to South Reach but so far it looked nice enough. As they followed the road from the stables to the big town gate, they passed a couple of merchants with their wagons. Others were lining up at the gate waiting to be let into town. Guards were controlling papers and permits. Elaria wondered about the excessive security measures but Cullen led her right past the line of merchants. He had never been the most patient man in Thedas but Elaria still made apologetic faces at the merchants they passed.

A middle-aged guard in South Reach's colors stopped them in front of the gate. With his receding hairline and the sizable bulk that hung over his belt he seemed like this best fighting days were in the past, but Elaria still found his eyes alert. This was not a man one should mess with.

“And who are you? Not here to make trade, I take it?” he asked in a booming voice as he positioned himself between them and the gate.

“Good day, ser. We're just travelers looking to visit family in town.” Cullen smiled but the guard remained stony-faced. When his eyes flicked to Elaria, they widened slightly.

“We have no Alienage in South Reach.”

For a moment, she did not understand. Then it dawned on her and she felt the blood rushing into her cheeks. She could feel him taking it all in. Her pointed ears, her vallaslin, the Dalish hunting bow strapped to her back. Nobody had looked at her like this in a long time. Not even at the Winter Palace when she could hear the nobles whispering behind her back. Even then there had always been at least a grain of respect or fear in the stares they gave her. But this guard saw nothing in her. Anger rose in her but with dread she realized that she also felt shame. Being the Inquisitor had shielded her from encounters like this. For too long, perhaps.

Before she could even open her mouth, Cullen stepped in. “We are here to visit _my_ side of the family,” he said through gritted teeth. She looked up at him. His face looked relatively calm but she could see the tense muscles of his jaw underneath. He was holding back just as much as she was.

It had been her own idea to travel under false names. No Inquisition perks, no guards, no attention. These days she could not enter a single village without almost bankrupting its citizens who all wanted to throw her an extravagant welcoming banquet. The stories of the Inquisition's victory over Corypheus had spread throughout all of Ferelden and Orlais by now and she would not have been surprised if the bards were already singing her name in Tevinter taverns as well. She just needed a bit of anonymity for a change and this trip had seemed like the perfect opportunity. She had not expected to run into trouble because of it so quickly.

The guard held up both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright, no need to get all cranky about it. It's none of my business what a man does in his personal life.” He shot Elaria another look before stepping aside. Next to her, Cullen's entire body was as tense as a drawn bow. The guard's vulgar innuendo was not lost on him but he kept his composure as they passed him and entered the city gates.

South Reach looked a lot like most Fereldan towns she had visited. Behind the gates, a large market place opened up, littered with colorful stands and even more colorful people. It was lined by small but robust looking wooden houses. Children and dogs were running and playing on the dusty trampled ground and the smell of spices filled the air. The sound of laughter and merchants praising their own goods was almost deafening after the long silence of the road.

Elaria flashed Cullen a glance. His face was still tense and he was looking straight ahead. She did not know what to say. He had always told her that it didn't matter to him that she was Dalish. Of course she had always known that the topic would have to come up sooner or later but she never would expected this. She still felt the shame like a painful hole in her stomach. Why was she the one who felt ashamed when she had done nothing wrong?

“I should go back,” Cullen said suddenly. He was still not looking at her, his jaw set in stone. “I should go back and knock his teeth out.”

Elaria let out a breath she had not known she was holding.

“As much as I love you for wanting to defend my honor, I don't think that would be the most inconspicuous thing to do.” She lightly put a hand on his arm and he finally turned to look at her.

“Someone talking to you like that,” he said through still gritted teeth. “I can't stand it.”

She bit her lower lip and looked down. Him being to protective of her felt good, she had to admit. But it did not resolve the larger issue. Elves all over the country were still treated like this and worse while she sat on her throne in Skyhold. Nothing good she had done seemed to change public opinion on elves. Every single sacrifice just another drop in the ocean. And another thought, more personal, more selfish, nagged persistently in the back of her mind until she could not take it any longer.

“What if they don't like me?” she blurted out and regretted it almost immediately. She could feel her face becoming bright red. She had never really allowed herself to think about it directly but it would have been lie to say that the thought had not haunted her from time to time. As Inquisitor she had had the luxury of ignoring it so far but the guard with his looks and his innuendo had brought it all back to her.

“Who?” Cullen asked and took her hand. “What are you talking about?”

She looked up. There was confusion in his eyes. Worry as well.

“Your family. What if they don't like me?” For a second she thought that he would burst out laughing. Of course he had not thought about it. For some reason that just made it worse. But he caught himself just in time and softly cupped her face in his hands instead so she would not be able to look away again.

“Why wouldn't they like you? You are... you!”

She could not help but smile at that. He had never found a fault in her – however misguided that was.

“Well, I'm not exactly the woman you'd expect an ex-Templar to bring home to his family,” she said, less convinced in the face of his sincerity. “And you just saw what most people still think of elves.”

Cullen let out a sound that seemed to be a mixture of laughter and a cough. Before she could protest, he planted two small kisses on the tip of her nose and on her lips.

“I hate to break it to you but you being an elf is not going to be much of a surprise for my family. I'd wager that all of Thedas knows that about the Inquisitor by now.”

Elaria frowned. “Knowing is different than seeing,” she said but Cullen shook his head.

“Believe me, they won't mind. My family has always been... let's say more open-minded than most.” He took her hand again and they started walking across the market square. “You should have heard the fights my sister and I used to have about mage rights.”

That surprised Elaria enough to distract her from her worry. “Your sister? Really?”

Cullen laughed. “Oh, definitely. Mia was terribly cross with me when I joined the Templars. I think you two are going to get along just fine.” Elaria shot him a sideways glance. The smile on his face was genuine. It still surprised her sometimes how far he had come. Just a year ago he would have tensed up at the mere mention of his past. Too wrapped up in his own guilt, in the demons that still came to haunt him in his dreams at night. He was still hurting, perhaps in some way he always would be. But every day he was getting better, stronger. She gently squeezed his hand and he smiled at her.

“Are you still scared?” he asked and she loved him for his sincerity.

“A little bit,” she admitted. “But I'll be fine as long as you are there.”

 

* * *

 

South Reach was divided into three rings, with Hadlan's Keep on top of a hill in the city's center. While the guard had been right about there not being an Alienage, the town's rings were separated by social and economic barriers as much as by the town's high walls and guarded gates. When Cullen and Elaria passed through the gate into the Second Ring, the difference was almost startling. Instead of dusty ground and the colorful wooden houses of the First Ring, they found narrow cobblestone streets lined with tall timbered houses – the black and white fronts adorned with flags and streamers in South Reach's emerald green. It was more quiet here but the streets were almost as busy as the First Ring's market place. From the people's dress, Elaria assumed that most of them were probably merchants or other wealthier citizens. Cullen stopped a particularly richly dressed man to ask for directions and got a rushed but ultimately helpful reply. They made their way through the crowd and Elaria was suddenly very aware of their dirty, travel-worn clothes. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention, however, and after a few hundred yards they ducked into an alleyway to their left, making their way further into the city.

“Pikloch Alley”, Cullen read the battered sign mounted on the side of one of the timbered houses. “I think we need to go left after this one.” The followed the narrow, dusky alley until it opened into another wider cobblestone street very similar to the first one. More timbered houses and green streamers but far less people. To Elaria everything in this district looked absolutely the same. Without Cullen she would have been completely lost by now. Human cities were still confusing for her to navigate but South Reach proved to be an even bigger challenge with its tall houses and city walls.

“I think this is it,” Cullen said and stopped. Elaria looked up. The house looked just like all the others to her but when her eyes wandered over the dark wooden front door she recognized the lion crest mounted above the frame. Before she could say anything, the door flew open and an ear-battering scream filled the silence of the street. Both Cullen and Elaria flinched at the noise. A woman came running out of the house, her scream now turned into more of a shrill laughter. Elaria did not need an introduction to realize that this was one of Cullen's sisters. A mess of long golden curls framed a round friendly face. She was tall, but then again, all humans seemed tall to Elaria. There was an equally golden-haired toddler seated on her broad hip and it bounced in her arms with a delighted squeal as she hurried down the few steps leading to the street.

“Cullen!” she cried out and threw her free arm around her brothers neck. After a split-second of hesitation Cullen returned her embrace and buried his face in her curls. Elaria could see the tense muscles in his back slowly relaxing. She had not fully realized until now just how anxious he had been about seeing his family again. When he pulled back, his face was wet with tears but the smile on his face was as bright as the sun. Elaria could count the times she had seen him cry on the fingers of one hand but this was the first time he was crying out of joy. His sister was shedding tears as well as she untangled herself from him.

“You blighted idiot,” she sobbed but her smile was just as wide as his. “I don't know if I should hit you or kiss you. But first things first.” She took the child from her hip, handed it to her brother and turned to Elaria. Before Elaria could even open her mouth, she found herself in a tight embrace. After a moment, Cullen's sister released her but kept holding her by the shoulders and looked her up and down.

“You must be Elaria,” she said. “Or should I say Inquisitor? Or Your Highness or something like that?” The speed of her speech was dazzling.

“It's Your Worship, actually,” Cullen chimed in and grinned.

“Oh please don't!” Elaria could feel herself blushing and shot him a warning look. “Just Elaria. And I'm so pleased to finally meet you.”

“As am I. I'm Mia. Cullen's sister. But I guess, you've figured that out by now.” Mia laughed and turned back to her brother only to find that he was holding the child awkwardly at arm's length, obviously completely overwhelmed. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford. That's your niece. Now hold her like a real man, Maker's breath.” She gently pushed the little one against Cullen's chest until he was holding her properly. Then she turned back to Elaria.

“I do hope he's more competent at commanding your forces because this is a pitiful sight.”

Elaria couldn't help but laugh at Cullen's bright red face. She liked Mia already.

“I assure you he is most competent. But then again, his work rarely involves holding children.”

Mia laughed and took her by the arm. “Please come inside. We shouldn't talk about all of my brother's shortcomings while standing out here like vagabonds.” She led them up the stairs and through the front door. They entered a small foyer with a tiled floor. Elaria could see several closed doors and a wide staircase leading up to the first floor. She followed Mia through one of the doors and found herself in a large but cozy kitchen with windows looking out on a small garden behind the house. Sunlight streamed through the windows and bathed the room in golden light. It smelled of freshly baked bread and spices. The heart of the room was the giant wooden table with enough chairs around it to accommodate a small nation. Mia took the child from Cullen and gently laid her down into a cot by the window.

“What's her name?” Elaria asked as she watched Mia cover her daughter with a woolen blanket in sky blue.

“Marielle,” Mia said with a soft smile on her lips. “We named her after my husband's mother.” When she had made sure the child was content, she offered her guests places at the big table. Elaria had not even completely taken off her coat before Mia started setting the table with food and drink. Every attempt to offer help was rebuffed by her with an impatient wave of her hand. Soon the table groaned under the weight of all the different dishes. Bowls of fruit and berries. Savory pies filled with tender meat and a hearty gravy. Small buns with raisins, apples and almonds whose spicy smell alone made Elaria's mouth water. Fresh bread with honeyed butter. Mia served a strongly brewed tea to wash it all down. While they were eating, she kept talking, telling stories about the different family members. There was no way that she would ever be able to fill Cullen in on everything he missed but it definitely would not be for a lack of trying. After an hour Elaria felt stuffed to the brim with good food and all the information about South Reach she had never even known she needed.

Cullen's family had moved to the city during the Blight – a dangerous and taxing journey that had cost his mother her life. Back in Honnleath, the Rutherfords had been relatively wealthy as they had owned the land they farmed on. But the Blight changed all that. Cullen's father had started working as a hired hand on a farm just outside of South Reach but it was never enough to feed a whole family so Mia and Cullen's younger brother Branson had taken odd jobs in the First Ring. Grief and hard work had eventually broken their father and he had died just five years after arriving in South Reach. Elaria reached out over the table and took Cullen's hand. He knew all of this, of course, but hearing a first-hand account from his sister had to be painful. He squeezed her hand gently and gave her a small grateful smile. He looked shaken but his eyes stayed dry as Mia continued her story.

The family's luck had changed when Mia met and married Adrien, a young merchant who had just settled down in South Reach.

“He is from Orlais,” Mia said as she handed Cullen another cup of tea. “But he's a sweetheart. Surprisingly good with dogs as well.” She winked at Elaria who grinned into her tea. Mia explained how after a lot of hard work and a few lucky deals, they had been able to move to the Second Ring two years ago, just as she had gotten pregnant with Marielle. Branson, on the other hand, had bought himself a small piece of land just outside of South Reach.

“He has always been more of a farmer. Never liked the city. He's a lot like Father,” Mia said and looked at Cullen. “I'll send him a raven later tonight to let him know you've arrived.” Cullen nodded. Elaria knew that he had been close with his brother when they had been children.

“What about Rosalie?” Cullen asked suddenly. “Is she still with the city guard? You've mentioned something like that in one of your letters, I think.”

Mia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean on of those you've never replied to?” The smallest hint of pink appeared on Cullen's cheeks as he looked down at his hands, his lips a tight straight line. Mia's expression softened slightly. “Don't worry about it. You're here now.” She got up and placed a hand on Cullen's shoulder. He reached up to cover it with his. “And yes. She's still with the guard. But you'd better not call her Rosalie or she'll break your nose. She goes by Ros now.” Mia began clearing the table and Elaria got up to help her, without any objections this time.

“Why Ros?” Cullen asked and also started stacking up dishes.

Mia shrugged as she scraped leftover pie from Cullen's plate. “I don't know. We've called her that for years. I don't think the other guards even know her real name.”

When the food was stocked away and the dishes cleaned, they sat back down at the table and continued talking. From time to time, Mia would get up to look after Marielle. When it got darker outside, she opened a bottle of Antivan wine.

“It's the good stuff,” she said as she filled Elaria's cup. “Adrien imports it himself. But I'd say this is a special occasion.” The wine was rich and sweet and Elaria could feel its warmth spreading through her body almost immediately. She could also feel it loosening her tongue, which might have been an effect Mia had counted on. As she evening went on, she told Mia stories from the Inquisition. Cullen, with rosy cheeks and his second glass of wine in front of him, filled in any details she missed. As usual when he was drinking, he used his hands to gesture wildly as he talked – a trait which, as Elaria found out with delight, he obviously shared with his sister. Mia was easy to like, with her honest and warm demeanor. Like Cullen she was a good listener. She had a similar way of giving her full attention, leaning forward and slightly nodding with wide eyes as she listened to a story. In the beginning, Elaria had found Cullen's intensity unnerving but she was used to it now and could appreciate it in Mia as well.

Dusk had settled over South Reach and Mia started lighting the candles around the kitchen. She had just lit the last one when her husband entered the room. Adrien was a tall broad man with a shock of dark hair and distractingly bright blue eyes. He was handsome with an easy smile and Elaria could see why Mia had fallen for him. In the way she leaned against him as they kissed it was clear that her attraction had not faded since then. He greeted them with a firm handshake and did not mention Elaria's title once, which she appreciated. She could see the tension in Cullen's face, however. It was clear that he was still anxious, even though the food and wine had helped him relax around his sister. When they sat back down, Elaria discreetly slipped her hand into his underneath the table and when he looked at her she gave him a small but encouraging smile.

Adrien poured himself some wine and joined them at the table. “You would not believe the day I had,” he said and began telling them about a fellow merchant who had tried to cheat him out of a delivery. There was something immensely calming about the way he treated Elaria and Cullen like some old friends who were regular guests at his house rather than the leader of a highly powerful military organization and his wife's notoriously absent brother. The thought made Elaria giggle and she had to hide her grin behind her hand. Or perhaps it was just the wine going to her head. Cullen shot her a quizzical look but she shook her head.

Mia looked out of the window, a slightly worried look on her face. It was completely dark outside now – the candle-lit kitchen an island of light amid the darkness. Marielle had fallen asleep in her cot hours ago.

“Ros should have come home by now,” Mia said. Adrien sighed deeply and emptied his glass with one big gulp.

“I think we all know where we are going to find her.” He pushed back his chair and got up.

“The Curious Piglet,” Mia groaned and buried her face in her hands. Elaria and Cullen shared a look, both trying not to grin.

“The Curious what?” Cullen asked, his face deliberately serious but Elaria saw the light twitch in the corner of his mouth. Adrien had put his coat back on.

“Piglet. It's the worst tavern in the First Ring. Probably the worst in the whole city. But very popular with the guards. It's where we usually find your sister after dark.” He looked over to Mia who just shrugged. “Cheap ale and cheap women and all that...”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “I can come with you if you want.”

Elaria bumped his side with an elbow. “Cheap women, eh?” she said and grinned when her Commander's face took on a slightly pinkish color. “I'm just teasing you.” She nuzzled his shoulder. “Go and get your sister.”

 

* * *

 

When the men had left, Mia poured herself another glass of wine and sipped it anxiously. “I'm really sorry about this,” she apologized. “This is not the first impression you should get of this family. It's just...” She trailed off, looking out of the window again. “I probably worry too much. But I've lost one sibling already. I won't lose Ros as well.”

It took Elaria a second to understand what Mia meant. By the time she realized that she was talking about Cullen, Mia's face had turned bright red. “I am so sorry,” she said and waved her hands for emphasis. “That's not what I meant.”

Elaria reached over the table and put a hand on her arm. “Don't worry about it. I know what you meant.” She sighed. “It must have been difficult for you. For what it's worth, he's really trying now.”

Mia nodded and stared into her glass as if she could find answers at its bottom. It was a completely different side of her and Elaria was almost glad that Mia let her see it. She was almost as good at hiding her pain as her brother. But smiles and hospitality could only cover up so much.

“I know he is,” Mia said, her voice almost a whisper. She looked up and gave Elaria a small genuine smile. “I never thought he would come to visit us here. I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

Elaria returned the smile. Mia was right, of course. The trip had been her idea. But she did not want to downplay Cullen's progress. “He was eager to come. He's not always good at expressing it, but he cares deeply for you.”

Mia nodded and caught her hand in a short but reassuring squeeze. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and pushed back her chair to get up. “Will you help me clean up?”

They cleared away the glasses and the two wine bottles. Mia left for a few minutes to take Marielle to bed and for the first time in weeks, Elaria was alone. She leaned against the kitchen table and took a deep breath. Her head was pounding from the wine and she pinched the bridge of her nose to concentrate. Her muscles were aching from the days on the road and she felt very tired suddenly. As far as she could judge, the visit was going fine so far. She was sure that Cullen's sister would be found quickly. But somewhere deep inside her she could still feel doubt gnawing away at her. She could not quite put a finger on it but perhaps the guard's comments had affected her more than she had realized. Mia and Adrien had been pleasant enough but she had spent enough time around nobles since becoming Inquisitor to know that pleasantries could often hide a lot of ugliness underneath. She shook her head. She was being ridiculous.

“Is everything alright?” Elaria looked up. She had not heard Mia entering the kitchen. She smiled quickly and hoped that it looked convincing.

“Oh yes,” she said hastily. “Just tired, that's all.”

Mia did not look convinced as she crossed the room and got a small bucket of water and a rug to clean the table. “No need to pretend with me,” she said and Elaria saw that she meant it.

“To be honest, I was a bit nervous coming here,” she began and sat back down on her chair. “I know it seems silly now with everything going on, but I was worried what you would think.” She halted for a moment and shot Mia a nervous glance. “About me being an elf. Cullen says that you wouldn't mind but...” She stopped when she saw the look on Mia's face. She was obviously desperately trying to hold back a laugh. Elaria's confused expression was enough to break her concentration.

“Oh honey, I'm the last person to judge. I married an Orlesian, for crying out loud!” Mia's laughter was infectious and Elaria could feel the anxiety falling from her.

“Is that so bad?” she asked, remembering the snarky comments Cullen had made about Orlesian nobles at the Winter Palace. Mia snickered as she wiped down the table.

“You have no idea. You should hear how the neighbors talk.” She shrugged. “But it doesn't bother me. We love who we love.”

That was the moment when they heard the front door fly open. They both jumped. Elaria was out of her chair in less than a second, one hand on the spot on her belt where her dagger usually was. But the sounds coming from the hall were more disturbing than threatening. She recognized Cullen's groan immediately, followed by an incredibly colorful tirade of swearing and then someone singing – very loudly and very much off-key. Apparently they had found his sister.

“You're being ridiculous,” she could hear Cullen huffing. “Rosalie, please!”

“Don't call me that!” A shriek followed by a loud crashing noise sounded through the house. Mia forcefully tossed her rag into the bucket and rolled her eyes.

“Maker's breath. They are going to wake up Marielle.” Another loud crash from the hall. “Or perhaps the entire neighborhood.”

Adrien appeared in the doorframe, his hair and clothes disheveled. “Could you give us a hand, love?” His face was flushed and sweaty. Mia disappeared into the hallway and Elaria cautiously made her way around the table.

They half carried and half dragged Ros into the kitchen. She had started singing again. Elaria couldn't make out all the words but it sounded like the sort of song you would expect to hear in a rundown tavern. Ros was a tall lanky woman, all legs and arms which she waved around as she tried to wiggle out of her captors' grasp. Her hair was a bit darker but just as curly as her siblings' and she wore it almost as short as Cullen's. She was wearing the same emerald green uniform they had seen on the other city guards – although hers seemed to be covered in wine stains and other spots of questionable origin.

“Unhand me, you brutes!”, she yelled and succeeded in wriggling out of their grip, only to ungracefully land on her hands and knees on the kitchen floor. She immediately started to laugh which quickly turned into the hiccups. Mia groaned in annoyance while Cullen and Adrien just stood there helplessly. That was the moment when Ros looked up and discovered Elaria.

“Who's that?”, she slurred and scrambled to her feet, instantly losing her balance and crashing into one of the chairs. Cullen leaped forward and gently but firmly guided her to sit down.

“That's Elaria,” he said. “My... ehm... the Inquisitor.” He shot a glance at Elaria and looked absolutely mortified. She lifted one eyebrow but smiled.

“Yes, that's me. His-ehm-the-Inquisitor.”

Ros looked from one to the other, obviously confused. Mia put a cup of water in front of her on the table, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary.

“Drink this. I won't have you throwing up all over the kitchen again,” she said and sat down next to her sister. Ros took a sip of water and winced as if it was acid. All the while she kept her eyes on Elaria who started to feel a bit self-conscious. The Rutherfords all seemed to share that intense stare that made it difficult to look away. Ros took another sip, then sat the cup down.

“You're really pretty,” she said, surprisingly soberly. “I did not expect that.” Elaria could feel her ears burning. Suddenly all eyes seemed to be on her as they were waiting for her reaction.

“Eh, thank you?” she tried. Talking to drunk people always seemed a little bit like talking to small children – something else she did not necessarily excel at.

Ros nodded slowly. “You are very welcome.” She downed the rest of her drink and got up, legs obviously still shaking. “I shall go to bed now. Please excuse me!” she proclaimed with a grand sweeping gesture. “I will see all of you tomorrow morning!” She tried to bow, which almost led to another stumble into the chair. She caught herself, turned around and left the kitchen. Elaria looked to Adrien who was still standing in the middle of the room. Ros had not been here longer than a few minutes.

“Well, that was... interesting,” she said but Adrien just shrugged. Mia tried to smile apologetically but she was obviously annoyed. When another thundering crash resounded from somewhere above their heads, they all flinched and Mia jumped to her feet.

“She probably fell again. I will make sure she didn't hit her head this time.” She turned to Cullen and Elaria. “I'm sorry the night had to end this way. Adrien will show you to your room. Things will be a lot calmer tomorrow, I promise.” She looked very sincere but Elaria could not shake the feeling that 'calm' was not really a word that could be applied to the Rutherford household.

 

* * *

 

Adrien led them up the steep stairs to the guest bedroom on the uppermost level of the house. It was a lovely chamber with a large four-poster bed, a soft woolen carpet and even a small bathroom. From the narrow glass windows, Elaria could overlook part of the Second Ring and the First Ring below, illuminated only by dim streetlights and the pale moon above.

When they were alone, Cullen joined her at the window, snaking his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin on her head. She leaned into him. The familiar scent and embrace always made her feel at home wherever she was. Her arms and legs felt heavy and sluggish from the wine but her skin tingled where he touched her.

“I've been meaning to thank you for this,” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her closer. “For convincing me to take this trip.”

She smiled even though she knew he could not see it. “Are you happy?”

He nodded and tilted his head slightly until his lips brushed against her ear, a sensitive spot. She giggled and turned so she could face him. He looked happy. Calmer than she had seen him in a long time, despite the tumultuous events of the night.

“I'm glad,” she said and got on the tip of her toes to kiss him. They stood like that for a long time afterwards, foreheads resting against each other, until travel and wine finally took their toll and they tumbled into bed – falling asleep instantly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit 16/04: I changed the names of Cullen's other siblings to match the official ones.


	3. Earth That Shakes Our Cities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the names of Cullen's other siblings to fit the official ones. So Calinda is now Rosalie (who goes by Ros) and Leon is now Branson. Sorry for the confusion. As always, blame Bioware. ;)

Elaria awoke at the first light of day. They had forgotten to draw the curtains the nights before and bright sunlight was flooding the room. She shielded her eyes with the back of her hand and groaned. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, the bitter taste of wine still on her tongue. She felt Cullen stirring next to her and turned her head to look at him. He had buried his head in his pillow, apparently set on ignoring the sunlight for as long as possible. He seemed to have taken off his shirt at some point during the night and with his blanket scrunched up somewhere around his feet, she could see all of his muscular back. The spray of freckles that dusted his shoulders. The intricate map of scars that lined his pale skin. She could have drawn every single one by heart.

Carefully she got up from the bed, walked over to the window and closed the heavy curtains.

“What are you doing?” Cullen asked, his voice muffled through the pillow. She smiled as she slipped into her boots and laced up her breeches. Neither of them had bothered with properly changing out of their clothes the night before. They had almost been too tired to take off their shoes.

“Go back to sleep,” she said quietly and bend down to press a gentle kiss on the spot between his shoulder blades. “It's too early.” He made an approving sound as her lips touched his skin but she pulled away and made her way to the door. “I'll be downstairs.” He didn't answer, probably having drifted off back to sleep. She smiled as she quietly closed the door behind her. He slept better now than he had when they had first started sharing a bed. But the nightmares still came so frequently that she was grateful for every hour of uninterrupted sleep he got.

The house lay quiet as she tiptoed down the stairs but when she came into the kitchen she found Mia already up and working. She had just come in from the garden and carried a big bowl filled with bright red berries under one arm. Her blond curls were piled up into a messy bun on top of her head.

“Elaria!” she exclaimed and almost dropped the bowl in surprise. “Why are you already awake? I hope I didn't wake you?”

Elaria shook her head. “No, we forgot to draw the curtains. But I sent Cullen back to sleep.”

Mia nodded and put the bowl down on the counter. “You probably want to take a bath and get cleaned up. So it's good you're up this early.” Elaria was sure it wasn't meant as some kind of side blow but she still felt blood rushing to her cheeks. When she glanced down her body she was painfully aware of the streaks of dirt on her arms and the dust on her clothes. She and Cullen had not made any attempt to wash themselves before falling into his sister's clean sheets last night.

“Ehm, yes,” she stuttered, anxiety pooling in her stomach. “That would be nice.”

Mia nodded towards the door that led out to garden. “There is a bathhouse outside. Don't ask. It's a weird South Reach thing. And an absolute pain in the winter.” When she noticed Elaria's hesitation, she gave her an encouraging smile. “Go on. I've fired it up and prepared everything for you. And afterwards you can help me destem these blighted berries.”

Elaria went out into the garden. To her left she saw the bathhouse Mia had mentioned. It was a small stone hut nestled against the side of the main house. She saw steam rising out of a narrow chimney on top, billowing in the crisp morning air. The same steam greeted her when she opened the door of the hut and entered. Her eyes needed a moment to get used to the dim light but then she saw a pool set into the ground, filled with steaming water. It wasn't large, just big enough that two people could fit in comfortably, but deep enough that she could not see the ground. Mia had put towels and soap for her on the edge of the pool and she discovered some fresh clothes on a rack in the corner as well. The air in the bathhouse was hot and humid and Elaria could already feel sweat trickling down her back. She took off her dirty clothes and undergarments and carefully descended the stone steps that led into the pool. The water was just the right temperature and she let herself sink with a content sigh. She could feel her muscles relaxing in the warm water. There was always something tense in here – there had been ever since the day she had fallen out of the Fade. She closed her eyes and slid further down until the back of her head was underwater as well. When she felt she had soaked for long enough, she spent several minutes vigorously scrubbing her skin and hair with Mia's soap, rinsed off and repeated the process until she felt truly clean. When she stepped out of the water and wrapped herself in one of the large towels, her skin was flushed and pink but she felt a hundred times better.

Mia had laid out clean undergarments, a white shirt and a soft green cotton skirt for her. The clothes were too big but she rolled up the top of the skirt a bit and wrapped her own leather belt around her waist to hold it in place. The hem still brushed across the floor. She braided her still wet auburn hair into a plait over her shoulder, gathered up her own dirty clothes from the floor and left the bathhouse.

With the heat of the bath still clinging to her skin, the morning air seemed even colder than before and Elaria hurried back into the kitchen where Mia was busy destemming the berries.

“Feeling better?” she asked with a grin.

Elaria nodded. “So much better. Thank you.”

“Put your old clothes into that basket over there and I'll wash them with the rest later.” Mia pointed towards a woven basket in the far corner. Elaria accepted the offer with a smile and then sat down across from Mia who handed her another bowl filled with red berries.

“Help me with those, will you?” she asked. “We get tons of them during this time of the year. They make an excellent compote but destemming them is such a nuisance. And Adrien has already left for work.” She showed Elaria how to separate the little berries from the hard green stems in the most efficient way possible. After a few minutes Elaria had worked out an effective rhythm.

“You lived in a Dalish camp before the Conclave, right?” Mia asked suddenly as she plucked the berries with practiced fingers. “What was that like?”

Elaria shrugged. “I don't know. Normal, I guess?” A lot of people had asked her about the Dalish since the day she had arrived at Haven. She never knew how to answer. Some people had the strangest ideas about Dalish life.

“I'm sorry,” Mia said. “It's a dumb question.”

“No, no!” Elaria felt bad for being so snippy. “Not at all!”

Mia laughed and waved her objection aside with a hand red with berry juice.

“Yes, it is. For you it must be just normal life and I ask you about it like it's some sort of outlandish fairy tale. You don't have to answer just because I'm curious.” She had hit the nail on the head. Elaria had to admit that she was a bit surprised. She had not expected Mia to be this perceptive.

“It's fine, really,” she said and meant it. “You're right. It's not easy to explain because for me it has always been just home.” She stopped for a moment to think. “I suppose it's a little bit like your family here. Just more people. And not everyone is actually related.”

Mia listened attentively while continuing to pluck the berries.

“So a clan is not necessarily a family?” she asked and Elaria nodded.

“Yes, clan ties are seen as even more important than blood ties. Children are usually raised by the whole clan and not just by their parents. But other than that it's a lot like a big family, I guess. I have nothing to really compare it to.” A bit embarrassed Elaria started to work on her own berries again. She had not talked about her clan in quite some time. With a start she realized that she missed them.

“What about your parents?”

Elaria looked up. “They are dead.” She could see the color draining from Mia's face and felt terrible immediately. “No! Don't feel bad!”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry...”

Elaria tried to smile encouragingly but was not sure she managed.

“It's alright. I'm fine talking about it. It's been a long time. My father died in a clash with a human village when I was seven. And my mother died in a hunting accident two years later.”

Mia reached out and put a hand on hers.

“I'm so sorry” she said and Elaria swallowed hard. Mia had the same sincerity in her eyes as her brother. Her sympathy was genuine and Elaria felt herself blush under her intense gaze.

“Thank you.”

They worked in silence for a while after that.

“Am I interrupting some deep heartfelt conversations about Cullen?” Mia and Elaria looked up from their berries. Ros had entered the kitchen, Marielle in one arm and a large basket in the other. “Please don't tell me my brother's still sleeping while I'm already running around the market procuring our breakfast?”

“I'm as surprised as you are,” Elaria said with a smirk. “And even more surprised that you are up before him. Or even at all, to be honest.” Ros set down the basket on the counter and smiled broadly. She did look a lot more rested than Elaria felt – even after her bath.

“Oh, please don't validate her in her behavior,” Mia groaned and got up from her chair. “Nobody knows how she does it but that girl has never had a hangover in her life.”

Ros took her place at the table, popped some berries into her mouth and grinned. “It's true. My one real talent. It's a gift, really.”

Mia scoffed. “One of these days it's all going to come back to you. One big hangover to make up for all the ones you missed. And I will be there to laugh at you. Loudly.” She started unpacking the basket Ros had brought, piling cheese and eggs and bread on the counter in front of her.

“Don't hold your breath, sister,” Ros said with a laugh before turning to Elaria. “I am very sorry that we had to meet that way yesterday, however. I had hoped to make a better first impression on the Inquisitor.” When she smiled like that, Elaria could see Cullen in her face – even more so than with Mia.

“Don't worry about it,” she said and meant it. “People have made far worse first impressions while completely sober.”

Mia broke open half a dozen eggs over a frying pan. “Don't tell her that. I'll never hear the end of it.”

“Don't worry. I plan to stay sober for the rest of their visit.” Ros winked at Elaria. “Or at least less drunk,” she added in a whisper and Elaria laughed.

Meanwhile, Mia cut thick slices from the loaf of bread, always keeping one eye on the eggs sizzling in the pan on the stove. Ros had seated Marielle on her thigh and was gently rocking her up and down until she was laughing and gurgling with glee. Elaria could not help but smile as she watched the scene. Despite it only being the four of them, the kitchen seemed to be buzzing with life. She had not even realized how much she had missed this sort of life. Lazy mornings spent preparing food and tending to the children. Perhaps life in South Reach was not so different from her clan after all.

She did not hear Cullen enter until she felt his hand brush the skin on the base of her neck. She would have known those calloused hands everywhere and leaned into his touch without looking up. When he leaned down and gently kissed her, she smiled against his lips.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep, before walking over to his eldest sister. He put an arm around her waist, pressed a kiss on her cheek and managed to snatch a piece of bread from the counter at the same time. When Mia realized what was happening, she swatted at him with her wooden spatula but he ducked just in time. Laughing he slumped down onto a chair next to Ros, quickly stuffing the bread into his mouth before it could be taken from him. Elaria had never seen him like this. He seemed younger here, as if the last fifteen years had been lifted from him like a weight from his shoulders. Watching him with his siblings almost made her nostalgic for the boy she never knew.

He noticed her staring and winked at her as he was gently squeezing the child's chubby foot. Mia was still muttering curses at him but had to return her attention to the eggs before they burned to a crisp.

“You'd think they would teach you Templars some manners,” she chided him as she turned the eggs. “All these years and you still steal food like a common thief.” But Elaria could see the smile tugging on the corners of Mia's lips. After all, she had not seen her brother like this in a long time either.

“You wound me, sister,” said Cullen with his mouth still full of bread. His comical expression just made Marielle giggle even harder. But he got up and helped Mia set the table to appease her.

The breakfast Mia served them was easily as good as the food she had given them the day before. Fresh bread, fried eggs and bacon that cured the last bit of Elaria's hangover. Coffee, another of Adrien's Antivan imports, that was rich and strong. To round it all off some of the freshly destemmed berries that popped in her mouth like sour little explosives and made her scrunch up her nose.

When they had eaten their fill, Cullen leaned back in his chair and sighed. “You should definitely come back to Skyhold with us, Mia. Cook breakfast for us every day.”

Mia laughed. “You wish. And I'm sure you already have an excellent cook. Orlesian probably.”

“That's the problem. You know what Orlesians eat for breakfast? It's dreadful! I once asked him for bacon and he looked at me as if I had asked him to roast a small child.”

Their laughter was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. Mia furrowed her brow but got up. They heard indistinct talking from the hall. A few moments later, she returned to the kitchen with a young boy, no older than ten, in simple clothing and a dirt-streaked face. First Ring, Elaria assumed.

“He says he's here to see you, Ros,” Mia explained and shrugged.

“I have a message for you,” the boy said. “From your brother.”

“Branson?” Ros pushed back her chair and got up.

“The farmer, yes. He asked me to find you. He's held up at the city gate.” The boy wiped his runny nose with his sleeve. “There's trouble.”

Ros shot Mia a worried look before turning back to the boy. “What kind of trouble? Spit it out!”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know. There were lots of people. Lots of guards. He just told me to find you and tell you to come. Quickly.”

Ros was already putting on her coat. Cullen and Elaria also got up and followed her out into the hall.

“Elaria and I should come with you,” Cullen said. “Just in case.”

Ros nodded, distracted. The boy lingered in the doorway. “Anything else?” Ros asked and the boy shrugged again.

“I was told there'd be a coin in it for me,” he said and Ros groaned.

“Of course.” She fished a copper coin out of her purse and tossed it to the boy who caught it easily. Without another word he slipped through the open front door and vanished into the street. Elaria grabbed her bow and quiver from its place next to the door and strapped them to her back.

“Do you really think that's necessary?” Mia asked from the kitchen door, Marielle on her hip.

Elaria gave a light smile. “If there's one thing I've learned since becoming Inquisitor, it's that you can never be too prepared.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived at the marketplace of the First Ring only to find it drastically changed. The jovial atmosphere of the day before was gone completely. Stands and shops stood abandoned and the dozens of children that had been playing here yesterday were nowhere to be seen. A crowd of people had formed in front of the big city gate and as the Rutherfords and Elaria approached they could hear the angry shouts.

“Andraste's tits!” Ros cursed and quickened her pace. “What it going on now?” The others followed as Ros pushed her way through the mob. When they reached the front, they saw that the cast-iron portcullis had been lowered. In front of it stood around a dozen men of the city guard, some of them with their weapons drawn. They were eyeing the crowd in front of them nervously. Elaria recognized the potbellied guard who had stopped them the day before. He was talking through the grille of the portcullis to the group of people who had gathered on the other side. Elaria could see that some of them were merchants. But most of them looked like farmers or travelers with packs on their backs not unlike hers and Cullen's.

When they tried to approach the gate further, a young redheaded guard stopped them by stepping in their way.

“Hold it right there. Step back or we wi– Ros!” The guard sheathed his sword as he recognized Cullen's sister. “Good that you're here. I didn't even recognize you out of your uniform. I hope you brought your sword.”

Ros swatted away the hand he had tried to put on her shoulder. “I'm not on duty. What it going on here? Why is the gate down?”

The guard shrugged. “Captain's orders. No one's to enter the city.” He threw a nasty look over Ros's shoulder in the direction of the angry crowd in the marketplace. “But of course the First Ringers have to involve themselves. Chief-Guardsman Trom has instructed us to use force if necessary.” He nodded in the direction of the potbellied man at portcullis.

“Some of these people seem to be hurt,” Cullen said and Elaria craned her neck to see better. He was right. In a wagon right in front of the gate, she could see several people covered in bloody rags and bandages. “They clearly need help.”

The guard shrugged again, obviously not worried, but looked Cullen up and down with slight suspicion. “They won't get it here. Not unless the Captain's orders change.”

“Ros!” a voice called out. On the other side of the gate, a tall broad-shouldered man pushed his way through the crowd.

“Thank the Maker, it's Branson.” Ros stepped past the guard and made her way to the portcullis. “Maybe someone will finally make some sense around here.” Cullen and Elaria followed, aware of the wary eyes of the guards on them. When the reached the gate, the guard from the day before turned to them, annoyance clear as day on his fleshy face. His eyes flicked from Ros to Cullen and Elaria and back. Elaria was not sure if he remembered them.

“What have I said about keeping the crowd back?” he barked at a guard to his right.

“Trom, it's fine. They are with me,” Ros said. “We heard there was trouble and came down to help. What is going on?” By now, Branson had reached the grille. From this close Elaria could see that he looked a lot like Cullen but with darker, short-cropped hair and the thick muscular build of a farmer. He had the pleasant, mild-mannered face of someone who preferred the quiet life but he looked tired now, with deep dark circles underneath his bloodshot eyes. Next to her, she could feel Cullen tensing up. This was not the reunion with his brother he had envisioned.

“Ros, you need to help,” Branson said, clutching the iron bars with both hands. “They will not listen to us!”

“We have told you that there is nothing we can do,” Trom interjected, already turning to leave. “We have our orders. Go back to your farms. This gate will not open for you today. Come back tomorrow if you must.”

“The farms are not safe! You need to let us in. Now!” The people behind Branson called out in agreement. Elaria could see clearly now that many of them were in urgent need of medical attention. An elderly woman pressing a bloody rag to her forehead pushed her way to the front.

“Is this how the Arl treats his people now?” she yelled in a thick Fereldan accent. “Letting them burn while he sits in safety and comfort?” The crowd's disgruntled murmur grew louder.

“Since when does South Reach close her gates to people in need?” someone called out from the crowd in the marketplace. “Those are our people!” Elaria could feel the tension rising. The guards around them seemed to feel it too as they nervously shifted their positions, hands on the hilts of their swords. Somewhere beyond the portcullis a child began to cry. It was enough to agitate the crowd to new waves of shouts and shoving.

“Maker's breath,” Ros groaned. “Open the bloody gate, Trom. This is ridiculous.” She tried to sound calm but Elaria heard the slight tremor in her voice. She knew the situation was about to get a whole lot worse.

Cullen stepped forward. “This is madness,” he hissed to the older guard. “You need to open this gate now or you'll have a full-blown riot on your hands within the hour!”

Trom, whose face had taken on a deep red shade, huffed and glared at Cullen. “What do you know? You've been in this city less than a day and you're already trying to give me orders?” So he did remember them.

“Can't you see that these people are hurt?” Elaria called out. “Have some compassion!”

The guard's eyes flicked to her, the same contempt in his expression as the day before. “I only take orders from the Captain of the Guard. And if he says the gate stays closed, it stays closed.”

“And where is that Captain of yours?” Cullen asked, leaning in close. “Are you too daft to make a decision of your own when the situation calls for it?” It had been the wrong thing to say and Elaria knew it as soon as she heard the words leaving Cullen's mouth. Before she could say anything, Trom's face twisted into an ugly grimace and he rammed his gloved fist into Cullen's stomach. Cullen doubled over with pained groan.

“I believe we have another troublemaker on our hands,” Trom spat and gave the two men at his side a sign. They charged forward and grabbed Cullen by the shoulders, holding him back. Cullen struggled against them but their grip was tight and he was still heaving from the punch. Trom took a few steps back, looking him up and down. One hand on the pommel of his sword, he approached again, a sly smile on his lips.

“Trom, please,” Ros said and tried to step forward but another guard held her back. “What are you doing?” Trom ignored her as he continued to pace in front of Cullen. A bully's gait. With his thumb he etched his sword an inch out of its sheath.

“Look, my friend. I don't know where you come from. But here, if someone raises his voice to me like that, he's obviously asking for a good beating.”

Enough was enough. “You'd be dead before you could draw your sword, shem.” At Elaria's words the guard looked up – staring right at the tip of the arrow that was aimed at his face. A vicious snarl appeared on his face as his eyes wandered from the arrow to Elaria's stony face and back.

“You forget your place, knife-ear,” he said. “Your kind is not allowed to draw weapons inside the city walls. I could have you arrested right here and now.”

“I'd like to see you try that once this arrow had made its way into your eye socket.” Her voice was calm, cold. Inside, however, her heart was racing, fear creeping up the back of her neck with icy fingers. But she would not let him see that. “Let. Him. Go.”

Ros shrugged off the hands of the guard who had tried to hold her back but was now too busy watching Elaria and Trom. She stepped forward both hands up in the air in a calming gesture.

“Now, now,” she said with a strained smile. “There is no need for this. Why don't we all calm down and talk about this like reasonable people?”

“There is no reasoning with elves. And I will not be threatened in my own city. By a knife-ear!” Trom spat, not showing the slightest indication of stepping down.

Ros turned to Elaria, a pleading expression on her face. “Please put down your bow. This is only making it worse.”

Elaria did not take her eyes off her target. “As soon as they get their dirty shemlen hands off Cullen. Not a second sooner.” She could hear the blood rushing in her ears but even so she realized that the crowd around them had fallen silent. She could feel their eyes on her, tension thick all around them.

Trom and Elaria stared at each other and for a second she really thought he would not give in. She had underestimated him. Most people did not react this calmly to an arrow pointed at their face. But then his shoulders sagged, just slightly, and his hand fell from his sword. He gave his guards a nod and they let go of Cullen. Elaria kept her bow up and drawn until Cullen was safely behind her and she felt his hand on the small of her back.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly without taking her eyes off the guards.

“I am. That wasn't particularly smart, but thank you.” He still sounded a bit breathless but she could hear the smile in his voice.

Ros turned to Trom, her smile still strained. “Good. Now that this is resolved -”

“I'm afraid, it's not quite as easy,” Trom interrupted. “I can overlook this man's impertinence this once. But the elf drew her weapon. That's a crime punishable by death and you know that.”

Elaria tensed up and tightened the grip on her bow. Dread like a cold stone in her stomach. This wasn't good. Behind her, the people on the marketplace began murmuring like an angry swarm of bees. Ros shot her a nervous look and Elaria realized that there was little she could do.

“Surely there are more pressing matters right now,” Ros said, a last attempt at diverting the guard's attention, but to no avail. Her natural charm faltering as she realized what was going to happen.

“I'm sorry. I don't make the law,” he said with a smirk that showed exactly how much he would enjoy enforcing it. “Take her into custody.” The two guards who had held Cullen before stepped forward and grabbed her, one of them hard enough that she yelped in pain. She immediately knew his fingers would leave bruises on her upper arm. The other wrenched the bow from her hand.

“No!” Cullen called out behind her but two more guards stepped in to hold him back. “Let go of me! You can't do this! Ela!”

Elaria heard the blood rushing loudly in her ears as the guards dragged her a few steps away from him, hands on her arms like vices. She looked to Ros who had gone pale but was still trying to appease Trom. Elaria could not hear clearly what she was saying but Trom's stony expression remained. He would not change his mind.

Only then did she notice why she was not able to understand Ros. It wasn't just her own heartbeat pulsing loudly in her ears but the crowds on both sides of the portcullis. Their murmur had transformed into a roar of yelling and cursing. The people on the marketplace had closed in on the small group of guards in front of the gate, pushing with more and more force. Elaria and Cullen may have been strangers to them but their hatred for the city guard was big enough to overlook that for the moment. All they saw were people trying to help and getting punished for it.

The people on the other side of the gate had grabbed on to the portcullis and began yanking it – to little effect other than a loud rattling noise and the deafening sound of metal screeching against stone. When the guards who were holding Elaria turned her around, she saw that the crowd on the marketplace had formed an impenetrable wall around the gate. They kept pushing in. All of the guards had drawn their swords by now and Elaria could see the people eyeing the gleaming metal anxiously. It was all that kept them from overrunning the gate. This was going to end in a bloodbath, she realized, cold sweat forming on her forehead.

The guards holding back Cullen had been too busy restraining him to draw their own swords. His face was a twisted mask of rage as he struggled against them. Trom, who had finally realized that arresting Elaria only caused the situation at the gate to deteriorate, barked orders at his men over the uproar of the crowd.

“Get her out of here! Put her in one of the cells at the Barracks. I'll deal with her once we're done here.” The guards yanked Elaria forward and she gritted her teeth against the pain that shot through her arms and shoulders. She could already feel the bruises blooming underneath her skin. Cullen threw all his weight against his captors in a last attempt to free himself and a third guard stepped up, his sword drawn.

Cullen didn't even seem to notice him. “Let her go! You have no idea who you are me–“

“Cullen, no,” Elaria cut in sharply and shook her head. Cullen scowled but stood down, his body going slack in the guards' grip. She could see the muscles in his jaw twitching. His eyes were burning into hers. She knew exactly what he was thinking. One word. Just one word would be enough to safe her from this disaster. _Inquisitor._ But it would have meant risking a political disaster. If anyone found out that the highest representatives of the Inquisition had visited South Reach in secret without paying their respects to the Arl and other nobles, the scandal would be unheard of. Josephine would throw a fit.

There had to be another way. They had taken her bow but the long skirt Mia had given her covered her boots and the knife she had hidden there. On the other hand, the Inquisitor killing a couple of South Reach city guards might turn out to be an even bigger scandal.

But just as she was trying to decide if it was worth putting up a fight before they took her to the cells, the booming sound of a horn cut through the air, its deep blare so loud that Elaria could feel it resounding in her bones. The sound silenced the angry crowd instantly and for a second an eerie silence fell over the marketplace. Then a man's voice called out.

“It's the Arl!”

Distracted the guard to Elaria's left had loosened his grip enough for her to twist her body and crane her neck. Why would the Arl himself come down here from the Keep? She was too short to see much until the crowd in front of her parted. Whoever the man was who had called out, he had been wrong. It wasn't the Arl. It was the Arl's Guard – a group of soldiers in uniforms similar to the city guard's, just much more heavily armed. And better trained. This day just got better and better.

The group was led by a tall dark-haired woman who wore South Reach's heraldry on her chest and her sword in her hand. Behind her followed a dozen men in emerald green, one still holding the horn whose sound had silenced the crowd. When he saw the woman approaching, Trom pushed his way past his guards, so hastily he almost tripped over his own feet.

“Lady Leanne!” he called out and doubled over into something faintly resembling a bow. The woman looked him up and down, her stern face set in stone.

“I'm not my sister, guard,” she said icily. “Don't butter me up with titles. What is going on here?”

Elaria's mind was racing, trying to remember everything Josephine had tried to teach her about Ferelden's noble houses. Lady Leanne. As in Leanne Bryland? The Arl's youngest sister? She cursed underneath her breath and shot Cullen a look. He nodded, barely noticeably. He had made the connection as well.

Meanwhile, Trom was trying to explain the situation. Lady Leanne did not look impressed. Her eyes flicked over the crowd. The people in the marketplace had quieted down at the sight of the Arl's Guard but the tension was still palpable. Some of the people on the other side of the portcullis were calling out to her. After a moment, she stepped close to Trom, tall enough to tower over him.

“Are you mad? Do you _want_ to be responsible for a riot? Open the blighted gate. Now!” Her voice was little more than a pressed whisper but Elaria stood close enough to overhear.

Trom looked stricken. “Milady, I'm only acting on my Captain's orders. He said to keep the gate locked until we are clear on what happened to the farmers.”

“Well, we won't find out what happened to them if we don't let them in, now will we?” Lady Leanne spat, every word sharp enough to cut through armor. “Open. The. Fucking. Gate.” For a moment it looked like Trom might actually refuse. But this was an authority he could not ignore. With a curt nod he stepped back, waving impatiently to his guards.

Lady Leanne turned around to the crowd, the smile on her face as genuine as fool's gold. “This has been nothing but an unfortunate misunderstanding," she said in a booming voice. "My brother would never turn away his people in their time of need. We will open the gate.” The crowd started cheering as the portcullis slowly lifted behind her. Within seconds, people and carts streamed through the open gate, pushing past the city guards with their still unsheathed swords and confused expressions. Elaria couldn't help but smile as all around her people were embracing and helping each other. At least some good came out of this, even if she was probably in more trouble than ever.

When the biggest bulk of people had passed through the open gate, Lady Leanne directed her attention back to Trom and the group of guards holding Cullen and Elaria.

“And what in the Maker's name is this all about?” she asked and them with a mixture of annoyance and boredom. “Please don't tell me I have to thank your Captain for this as well?”

Trom built himself up to his full height and cleared his throat. “We have arrested this elf. She drew her bow and threatened to shoot me.”

Lady Leanne shrugged. “And?”

This was obviously not the reaction Trom had expected. His face took on an ugly red color. “Milady, it's illegal for elves to use or even draw their weapons within the city.”

“But did she actually shoot anyone?” Lady Leanne asked. “Do you have an arrow stuck somewhere that I cannot see?” Her words raised quiet laughter from some of the guards, which only made Trom's face grow even redder.

“No, milady, but I'm sure you ca–”

“Then I don't think this arrest is worth the trouble,” Lady Leanne interrupted. “Release the elf. I'm sure she has learned her lesson.” Before Trom could even open his mouth, the guards let go of Elaria. She gave them a dirty look as they stepped away. Within seconds, Cullen was by her side.

“Did they hurt you?” he asked, pulling her close. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, relief rushing through her. She would never have never expected that someone's blatant disinterest in her would ever save her life.

“No, I'm fine,” she muttered. “I just feel stupid. I shouldn't have let it come so far.”

“I'm just glad you're alright,” he said. Ros came over to them and discreetly handed Elaria her bow.

“Here, I took it from the guard. Make sure not to threaten anyone with it this time.” She smiled but Elaria could see that she was still a bit pale. She quickly grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

“Thank you,” she said. “I hope this won't cause too much trouble for you with the other guards?”

Ros sighed. “It probably will. But let's just get out of here for now. Before anyone starts asking real questions.” She was right, of course. They had been lucky so far. But they could not take any more risks. Especially with the Arl's own sister just a few steps away from them.

Elaria could feel Trom's eyes on her as they stepped away from the gate. Somehow she knew that this was not over. Men like Trom never forgot humiliation. But she could not worry about this now. Ros led them to a group of wagons near the center of the marketplace where several farmers stood together, talking in hushed voices. One of them was Branson. When he saw them coming, he excused himself from the group and walked towards them. He still looked tired but relieved. Before he even said a word, he wrapped his huge arms around Cullen in a crushing hug.

“Brother, you don't know how good it is to see you,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Let me look at you.” He held him by the shoulders and looked him up and down. Despite being younger, Branson was a good bit taller than Cullen, which also meant he towered over Elaria like a Great Bear.

“This is not exactly the reunion I had imagined,” Cullen confessed. “I would have settled for something a little less exciting.”

Branson laughed. “Oh, from what I've heard of the exploits of your Inquisition, this whole thing was very fitting.” He turned to Elaria. “Speaking of which, you must be Elaria.” He shook her hand which disappeared almost completely in his grasp. “I'm sorry for all the trouble you had because of us.”

“Believe me, it wasn't the first time. And it probably won't be the last. I'm just glad we could resolve this.” She smiled at him and he nodded solemnly before turning back to Cullen.

Elaria let her gaze wander over the marketplace. The men of the Arl's Guard had positioned themselves by the side of the gate and helped some of the hurt farmers. However, she spotted Leanne who was speaking to a few of the city guards. Suddenly she turned her head to look at Elaria and the Rutherfords, her expression something between curiosity and suspicion. Whatever she had heard just then, it definitely had peaked her interest.

“We should get out of here,” Cullen said. He had noticed it as well. “I think we've drawn enough attention to ourselves for one day.”

Branson nodded, a tired smile on his face. “Yes, you made quite the first impression.”

“We are sort of known for that,” Elaria admitted. From the corner of her eye she could see that some of the Arl's Guard had started moving towards them. “But now we _really_ need to go.”

Ros craned her neck, saw the guards and sighed. “This way.” She ushered them past one of the newly arrived carts which blocked the guards' line of sight, and then motioned for them to duck into a narrow alley which led away from the marketplace. After a few more twists and turns they were sure that nobody had followed them.

“We should take the Northern Gate into the Second Ring,” Ros sad as she led them through the maze of streets and alleys. “It's a longer detour but there are usually less guards there.”

Branson groaned. “I can't wait to get home to some of Adrien's fancy Antivan wine. And Mia's food. And a bath."

Cullen put a hand on his shoulder. “You and me both, brother. And then you are going to tell us everything that happened on those farms.”

 


End file.
